Birds Of A Feather
by FloatingPalace
Summary: Two years have passed and Sarah's leading the quasi-normal life of a high school girl. She's got a best friend, a social life...and sometimes, she and her stepmom even get along when Sarah's not telling Toby wild tales about the goblin king. In the Labyrinth, however, things are less than copacetic. Jareth has been imprisoned by an old enemy with an eye for his crown..and for Sara
1. Mirror, Mirror

The Labyrinth was silent. No goblins tittered with glee, no Fireys shrieked at passersby…no music came from the palace.

It was as though time had stopped.

But it hadn't—oh, no.

Someone was in the palace.

That someone lay, draped across a stone bench with his dark cloak drawn tight about him. In one gloved hand, he held a silver-wrought mirror. In the other, he held a knife.

**xXx**

_It's only forever_

_Not long at all…_

"Sarah."

_Not long…_

"Sar. Wake up!"

_Only forever…_

"Hey!" Somebody gave Sarah a rough shove. She started awake and sat up, blinking blearily.

"W-what—"

"Geez, Sarah, took you long enough." Standing next to Sarah was a small, freckled girl with feathered golden hair and blue eyes. This was Veronica Kieretty—Ronny for short.

"Sorry, Ron," Sarah apologized, stifling a yawn. "How long was I out?"

"Like half the class, dweeb." Ronny rolled her eyes. "Thank goodness Mr. Carpenter wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy giving Derek the riot act."

"What'd Derek do?" Sarah stacked her papers and notebooks into a pile and shoved them into her backpack.

"I don't know, probably forgot another paper or something. I quit paying attention."

Sarah laughed. "So did I." she stood up and slung her backpack over one shoulder.

"Yeah, no kidding." Ronny nudged Sarah gently in the ribs as they began to walk out of the empty classroom. "One minute you're all focused on adverbs and stuff, the next you're drooling on your desk—and that wasn't even the worst part."

"Uh-oh," Sarah sighed. In the distance, a bell sounded, signaling that they were late for lunch.

"You're telling me. I mean, who sings in their sleep? You're a freak, Williams."

"I know," Sarah grinned. "A real weirdo, huh?" She cleared her throat and walked a little faster. This wasn't the first time she'd dreamed about the Labyrinth and its strange inhabitants, and she was certain that it wouldn't be the last. Usually the dreams seemed surreal, just repeats of moments spent in the maze that she'd entered in an effort to save her baby brother—the junk lady handing her Lancelot, Hoggle grumping around the Bog of Eternal Stench, Ludo roaring for his rock pals…

She and Ronny entered the lunch room and took their places in line. Sarah listened as Ronny described a party that was coming up that weekend—it was going to be at her house, of course, and it was going to be totally awesome so Sarah was obligated to go…no, Ronny didn't care that Sarah was supposed to babysit that night, this was going to be the party of the century and she _had to come_.

"Besides," Ron said in closing, "My brother got a keg."

"A what?" Sarah asked.

"A _keg_! You know, Sarah…" Ronny leaned forward and stage-whispered in her friend's ear. "Beer!"

Sarah pulled back and looked down at Ronny. "Um…" she swallowed. "I'm not—"

"Hold up," Ronny held up a hand. "We're almost to the front, get food and then we'll talk."

Sarah nodded quietly and brushed a stray piece of long, dark hair behind her ear. She gave the lunch lady her number and took a tray heaped with rice and some kind of questionable sauce. She slid down the line and took a spoonful of salad, and some carrot cake as well.

"Oh, look," Ronny said, dancing over to the end of the line. "They got fruit today—peaches." She held up a perfect, orange sphere. "My favorite!"

Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I'll pass."

"What, you don't like peaches?"

In Sarah's mind's eye, she could picture Hoggle handing her the tender fruit just as she started whining about being hungry. She remembered the intoxicating scent and the wonderful burst of taste in her mouth as she bit into it.

She remembered also, all too clearly, the frightening and alluring ballroom filled with masked ladies and gentlemen. She remembered the glass walls and the disdainful laughs, and the feel of the Goblin King's hand on the small of her back as he swept her into the whirl of dancers.

She looked at Ronny and smiled. "You could say that."

**xXx**

"Toby," Sarah called, dropping her backpack to the floor with a _thunk_, "Guess who's home?"

The pitter-patter of little footsteps rattled the china that hung on the wall near the door. Sarah grinned and swept the three year old boy into her arms just as he prepared to launch himself, torpedo-style, into her knees.

"Sawah, Sawah!" He squealed, kicking his legs happily as she swung him around in a bear hug.

"That's the name, tiger," Sarah set Toby back down on the ground. In the past two years, he'd grown into a tubby little toddler with an enthusiastic love of dirt and trouble. Today, his fingers were covered in multicolor smudges of paint. A dribble of chocolate milk adorned the collar of his shirt.

"Where'd you get this," Sarah asked, playfully tugging at his fingertips.

"Mommy 'n I paint wocks!"

"Oh yeah? I bet the rocks liked that."

Toby grinned and bounced up and down. "Come see, come see!" he squealed, and then he was off, dashing back through the house towards the patio.

Sarah unbuttoned her coat and dropped it by her backpack. She kicked off her shoes as well, and slid through the house in stocking feet. Sure enough, on the back patio sat her stepmom, bouncing a chattering Toby on her knee. Her fair hair looked frazzled and she had a rainbow handprint on one side of her face, but she still smiled when she saw Sarah.

"How was school?"

"Good," Sarah shrugged. "I learned…stuff." She looked up at her stepmother and managed a little smile as well. In the past couple of years, she supposed it could be said that she and Karen had…found common ground, formed a shaky truce of sorts.

"Sawah," Toby wailed from his mother's lap, "Look at the wocks!" He pointed at a tarp on one end of the deck. "Pwetty!"

Sarah turned and crawled over to the tarp. She picked up one smooth river rock that had been covered in neon green, black, and brown splotches.

"Nice, Tobes," she glanced over at her brother. "What is it?"

Toby frowned and looked at his sister like she should have known right from the start.

"C'mon, tell me," Sarah pleaded.

Toby, easily placated, smiled again and said "'S the Goblin King!"

Sarah looked from the mottled stone to her brother and then back to the stone.

"The Goblin King?" Sarah said, trying not to laugh as she thought of the contrast between this and the immaculate, well-groomed being that had kidnaped Toby two years ago. "Seriously?"

"Yep!" Toby wiggled off Karen's lap and walked over to pick up another rock, this one a brilliant red with orange splashes. "An' this is a Fiwey," he put it down and pointed to another one. "An' that's Hoggle, an' that's a…" he became lost in his explanations. Karen slid off her chair and went to sit next to Sarah.

"You've been telling him those stories again," she said.

"He loves them."

"Your father and I told you not to."

"He asked." Sarah returned her step-mother's steely gaze. "They're just stories, Karen."

"_Strange_ stories! I don't want Toby's mind filled with all that-all that nonsense!"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so my Labyrinth is more nonsense than that story you tell at Christmas—the one with your dead aunt?"

"That's a true story, it doesn't teach children to misbehave—"

"Oh no, it teaches them that if your dead aunt magically appears to you in a dream, you get to keep all their jewelry!"

"She wanted—"

"No, she—"

"Sawah—"

"Not right now, Tobes." Sarah stood up and glared at Karen. "I have homework to do." She stormed back inside and slammed the door behind her.

Karen heaved a sigh and looked over at her son, who looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"Sawah mad," he wailed, toddling towards her.

"Shoot," Karen muttered, holding out her arms for him. "No she's not." Through the walls of the house, she could hear her step-daughter give a frustrated shout.

"Not at you, anyway."

**xXx**

Sarah collapsed on her bed. "Hoggle, I need you now," she groaned. "We fought again—Karen doesn't want me telling Toby stories about you guys anymore and dad backs her up. Can you believe it? You know Toby loves hearing about you guys. I can't just stop."

She rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe I could make them understand," she mused. "Convince them that it's not something bad, it's just like any other fairytale…only different?" Sarah sat up. "What do you think?"

She looked around her empty bedroom.

"Hoggle?"

No answer.

"Ludo?"

Nothing.

Sarah slid off her bed and peeked under it, then stood back up.

"Anybody?"

**xXx**

The man put the mirror down beside the knife on the floor and leaned back against the smooth stone wall.

"Oh, my dear Jareth," he tut-tutted, pulling delicately at the fingers of the leather gloves he wore. "She's not even beautiful."

His voice echoed slightly, giving his voice a strange, ethereal tone. He smiled—something that, on his chiseled face, seemed as unnatural as a fashion-conscious Goblin—and tossed his gloves carelessly to the ground, where they mingled with the rest of the goblin muck. His fingers were pale and long, with nails filed to sharp points as though to imitate claws.

"And such a temper too," the man stepped gingerly over a dented helmet that lay sideways on the tile. His boot heels clicked loudly against the stone. "What fun she will be to play with."

The man turned his head to look at the unconscious figure of the Goblin King, crumpled at the foot of his throne.

The man laughed.


	2. Threats and Decisions

**A/N: So, this chapter has a little bit more humor than the first one…I figured hey, why not start out a new fic with a little drama? You actually get to see the great and powerful Jareth awake this time, so rejoice and be happy and all that stuff. Also yes, Sarah's parents are going to be annoying and bratty for a little while. Because I say so! Muahahahaha!**

**Free buckets of Jareth-glitter for reviews!**

**xXx**

"Sarah? Sweetheart, are you in there?"

Sarah slammed her closet door shut and turned to look at the door to her bedroom. "Yes," she said, kicking a pile of clothes under her bed. She took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm here." She'd been digging through her room, searching for any signs of any goblin anywhere. Usually all she had to do was say one of their names…

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

Her door creaked open and her father stuck his head inside. "Karen said you had another fight."

Sarah folded her arms and shrugged. "You could say that."

Her father stepped inside her room and sighed. "I wish you two would get along."

"She said you didn't want me to tell Toby stories anymore," Sarah raised her dark eyebrows and regarded her father with a cold anger in her eyes. She wasn't in the mood to listen to his speech about how she should try to be nicer to her stepmother.

Robert Williams coughed uncomfortably. "Well," he said slowly, "That's not exactly true..."

"She said you think they're not good for Toby to listen to."

"Er…Sarah, you have to understand—"

"I'm trying," Sarah cocked her head to one side. "Believe me, I am. Toby loves those stories and I love telling them. They're not bad."

"Yesterday Toby broke your mother's crystal swan because he was playing at being Jerry, king of gremlins. We just don't think it's good for him right now."

"He's a toddler. Breaking things is what he _does_." Sarah rolled her eyes. "And it's Jareth the Goblin King."

"Same difference."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it—" Robert sighed. His patience was wearing thin. "You know what, I'm not going into this right now. Just…no more stories, okay?"

Sarah didn't answer. She shrugged and went to sit on her bed.

"Sarah," her father said.

"Hm?"

"Dinner will be ready at six." He backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Sarah stared at the door for a moment and then reached for the phone at her bedside. She dialed a number and held it to her ear.

"Hey, Ronny," she said. "Count me in for Friday night."

**xXx**

The man instantly regretted his actions the moment he set foot in the oubliette. A poof of sparkly, faintly perfumed air greeted his disdainful nose. It took a great deal of willpower to stifle a great, hacking sneeze that tickled his sinuses.

Instead, he sneered at the Goblin King. "How," he said, "are you enjoying your new accommodations, your highness?"

"They're wonderful." Jareth shrugged and stared, unimpressed, into one of his little crystal orbs. He was stretched out comfortably on the dusty earthen floor with one hand supporting his head and with the other he held the clear orb that he was gazing into. His hair had been teased into its huge, spiky style, and his boots looked freshly shined.

Even in total defeat, the Goblin King looked fabulous.

The man swept his great black cloak back in a practiced movement that sent it billowing out in a grand manner. He crouched down and clasped his hands together.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

Jareth didn't deign to look at the man. "I presume," he sighed, "that you came to gloat. Go ahead, then—I'm listening."

The man laughed—it was a hysterical, bleating shriek that grated on even his own ears, which was why he didn't do it often.

"Oh, no my dear king," he gasped, wiping away a tear that had leaked from one of his dark eyes, "I came…" he broke off as laughter bubbled up once again.

Jareth closed his eyes and vanished the crystal orb. He pressed the now empty hand to his forehead. "Please, get to the point," he groaned.

The man sobered up as fast as he'd come undone. He stood up and rearranged his cloak around his lean body.

"What a lovely young lady that Sarah Williams is," he said.

Jareth froze.

"We're going to have _so_ much fun together." The man slid one hand into his sleeve and pulled out a silver ring carved with the same flowing patterns as his mirror. "Sweet dreams, Jareth." He ran his thumb around the edge of the ring and faded from existence.

**xXx**

Chicken enchiladas.

Sarah hated chicken enchiladas.

She picked at the slimy gray pile of chicken and damp tortilla that took up half her plate and grimaced. Why Karen had decided to make every Thursday casserole night (yeah—apparently enchiladas counted as casseroles) she would never know.

At the end of the table, Toby, strapped into his high chair, banged his spoon on his tray and sent mushroom-y juice flying. "S'mow!" he shouted demandingly, "I wan' s'mow!"

That made Sarah smile a bit. He was a hungry little guy—meals were his favorite times of the day. They were also the messiest.

Her dad reached over and wrested the spoon from Toby's clutching fingers.

"I don't think so," he said.

Karen wiped up some stray enchilada juice that had landed on the corner of her normally emaculate tablecloth. Her forehead was crinkled up and the corners of her mouth were tight. It had been a long, long day.

Sarah's father took another mouthful of enchilada and muttered something about how delicious it was to his wife before turning his attention to his daughter.

"How was your day, sweetheart," he asked.

Sarah inhaled deeply.

"Pretty good."

"Anything happen at school?"

Sarah shrugged. "Not much. We finished To Kill A Mockingbird in English…I passed my math test…"

"Congratulations," her father nodded.

"…and Ronny's having a party Friday."

Karen perked up.

"A party? And you're invited?"

"Um," Sarah rolled her eyes, "yes?"

"Well, this is great! Your father and I'll hire a sitter and you can go have fun with your friends. You can even take the car, can't she dear?"

Robert looked at his wife and then his daughter. "Er…" he shrugged. "I guess."

Sarah sighed and poked at her food some more. She'd actually been looking forward to them saying no, that she'd have to look after her brother that night. Darn Karen's crazy wish for her to become one of the popular crowd…

**xXx**

"Ooh," the man cooed to himself, setting the mirror face down on the arm of his new throne. "A party."

He snuggled down a little into the comfortable leather back of the chair.

"It's time I introduce myself to the little princess."


	3. Creepers All Around

**A/N: FIRSTLY (and you can skip this if you don't want to hear me babble) I watched the first two Batman movies (the Christian Bale ones) for the very first time yesterday. Yeah, they were pretty cool…I mean, a tank that can turn into a motorcycle at a moment's notice? Big explosions? Mysterious monks that live on mysterious mountains and smoke mysterious flowers? That was all pretty cool. But my favorite part was still Christian Bale's Batman voice…*sighs* that's art right there. Also, is anyone else as freaking ticked off at Rachel as I am? "Oh, yes Bruce, I love you but we can't be together because of your amazingly heroic vigilante nightlife, but if you could ever give that up, THEN we can be together!" and then she goes all "I'm so sorry Bruce, but I fell for a secretly psychotic pretty boy that's ultimately going to destroy everything you've worked so hard for. Isn't that great?" I tell you—superhero love interests. They can't be trusted.**

**Now, moving on to the actual story news:**

**My greatest apologies to those of you who earned your bucket of Jareth-glitter. This is the last time I trust goblins to get ridiculously sparkly stuff from one place to the next. *shakes fist at Labyrinth* curse you, Hoggle!**

**And YES! Baddie has a name now! Phew, that took a long time…I know it's only been a couple chapters but referring to this guy as "the man" was really starting to get on my nerves. I like names. Names are fun. Mysterious nameless dude with mysterious powers (and, might I add, NO GLITTER) and a penchant for tormenting our favorite Goblin King… well, then not so much. **

**Also, if nothing much makes sense this chapter, I'm sorry…it will in the future. Trust me.**

**Wow, this is a long one. I'll stop talking now. **

**xXx**

Jareth paced back and forth across the cramped width of the oubliette. His shoulders were hunched and his head bowed in order to avoid a collision with the low ceiling.

"You can bind my powers," he muttered, "you can steal my crown and imprison my goblins…you can lock me in this filthy hole, taunt me, threaten me, but…"

A discreet cough came from behind him. The Goblin King turned, managing to put on a faintly annoyed, disdainful expression on his face.

The man stepped forward, holding one hand over his mouth and nose. "My dear Jareth," he said. "It has been so long since I saw you angry."

Jareth swooshed his cape around his shoulders, causing another cloud of glitter to puff up around him. "Angry…" he inhaled deeply. "No, I don't think so." He cocked his head to one side and thought for a moment. "I'm quite bored, actually."

His visitor lowered his hand to his side and smiled coldly. "Well that's something very easy to fix, isn't it? Catch!" He threw his hand forward as though tossing something. Midway between he and Jareth, an ornate silver mirror materialized and fell the rest of the distance to land undamaged at the Goblin King's feet.

Jareth stared at it, but made no move to pick it up.

"That, in case you're wondering, is a scrying mirror," the man stifled another cough. Darn glitter. "Perhaps you remember them."

Jareth rolled his eyes.

"This particular one was made just for you."

"Lovely gift."

"Oh, yes." The man smiled. "I wouldn't want you to miss my first date with Sarah, now would I? Really, it's too bad I can't just take you with me…wouldn't that be a treat. I actually considered it, you know—for old time's sake—but in the end I decided that this idea was just _so_ much better." He ran his thumb along the silver ring that now rested in his palm. Just as he began to fade away, Jareth looked up from the mirror.

"Alvar," he said.

The man grew solid again. "I'm touched," he squealed. "You remember my name! Oh, say it again."

"Sarah is a clever girl. She won't do what you want—or give you whatever you're after."

Alvar's face fell. Even his black, spiky hair seemed to droop. "Oh," he sighed. "Oh dear. Jareth, you seem a bit confused. Let me clear this little misunderstanding up." he took a step forward, closing the distance between him and the King.

"You see, I don't want your darling Sarah Williams all to my lonesome self," Alvar whispered. "She's nothing more than a silly child playing at adulthood. Do you know what I want, _your highness_? Do you?" he leaned forward until his forehead touched Jareth's.

"I want to break her."

Jareth met Alvar's cold, unwavering gaze and held it. "Why?" he asked lazily. "She's nothing but a silly child. You said so yourself."

"Ah, but my friend," Alvar straightened and backed away. "She is yours. Is that not reason enough to destroy her?" His ring gave a flash and the man disappeared.

Jareth sat down on the stone floor and picked up the mirror and flung it at the wall. It hit with a dull thud and then fell again to the floor, intact.

"Damn," he muttered.

**xXx**

"Sarah!" Ronny shouted. "Oh my gosh, you look fantastic!"

Sarah grinned and nodded, lifting her cup to her lips. She pretended to take a sip and lowered her cup. "Thanks!" she shouted back. "Great party!" She shook her head and pushed some hairsprayed curls over one shoulder. "Awesome!"

Ronny nodded and bounced off to greet some new arrivals at the party. Sarah dropped her fake smile and set the plastic cup down on a table. "Great party my eye," she said to herself, edging her way around a crowd of people that were leaping up and down to the impossibly loud music that blasted through the house. _There_, she thought. _I came, I saw, I partied. And now I'm out of here._ She slid past a couple whose limbs were hopelessly intertwined and stepped through the doorway onto the porch.

"Ah," she breathed. "Fresh air!" Sarah went and leaned against the bannister of Ronny's porch—like Sarah's own house, Ronny lived in an old Victorian home with a wraparound porch and a huge yard. People were spilling in and out of the house, wandering around the yard. Music could still be heard pulsing through the walls.

It was a chilly night—not unusual for that time of year. At least the weather was nice. A cool breeze blew by, rustling Sarah's hair. She closed her eyes.

_Sarah, beware!_

"Jareth?" Sarah's eyes snapped open, searching for the source of his voice. She looked up, down, and around—nobody was even standing close to her.

"Ugh," she groaned, lowering her head to rest on the bannister. "I must be going crazy…"

"Everyone's a little crazy." A boy about Sarah's age leaned on the railing beside her. "Some people are just better at hiding it than others."

Sarah looked at him. He had shaggy black hair that kind of flopped over part of his face and only emphasized the dark shadows that emphasized the hollows of his cheeks and the sharpness of his chin. She thought his eyes were green, or maybe hazel but couldn't be sure. He was tall, and even though he had on a worn bomber jacket, it was pretty obvious that this guy had something going on in the muscle department.

"Who're you?" she asked.

The guy shrugged. "Nobody important."

"I meant your name."

"You can call me Lex."

"I'm Sarah."

"I know." Lex turned and looked at her. "Sarah Williams. I'm in your English class."

Sarah felt her face flush red. "Oh," she gasped. "I'm so sorry, I didn't recognize…I'm just bad with faces, and…"

"Hey, it's fine. I sit in the very back and I don't talk much anyway." Lex smiled, revealing two rows of straight, white teeth. "You've got a great voice, by the way."

"Sorry," Sarah frowned, "I don't think I follow."

"Well, I don't know if anyone's told you this…" Lex slid an inch closer to Sarah. "But you sing in your sleep."

Sarah's face turned from a shade of pink to raging red in seconds.

"Oh," Lex said quickly, "Don't be embarrassed…it was a catchy song. Something like… let's see, what was it? It's only forever, not long at all…"

"You know what?" Sarah cleared her throat. This conversation was getting weird, fast. "I'd better go. It's getting late." She started to walk to the steps, but Lex reached out and caught her wrist.

"Let go!" she shouted. His grip didn't loosen. Sarah could feel the few people outside staring their way.

Lex's eyes flashed. For a moment, she thought she could see the outline of a castle reflected in them. "Tread carefully, Sarah Williams," he said. "A shadow follows you."

His grip loosened and Sarah reclaimed her hand. She turned and ran for her car.

**xXx**

"Toby?" Sarah called as she pushed open the front door, "Tobes!" She started up the darkened stairs. It was almost midnight—her parents were asleep and the neighborhood was quiet.

She tip-toed down the hall to Toby's room and walked inside to stand beside his bed. She bent over and pulled down her brother's Star Wars themed quilt.

"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed. Lying in his bed with a thin stream of drool trailing from one corner of his cherubic little mouth was Toby, out like a light. Sarah pressed her lips to his forehead and pulled the covers back up.

She'd rushed home from Ronny's party after the encounter with Lex. _A shadow_ he'd said. _A shadow follows you_.

A comment that was definitely made creepier by the fact that Sarah happened to know a load of extremely shadowy mythical creatures—and who was more shadowy than their leader, Jareth-the great kidnapper of babies and giver of drugged peaches?

Nobody else had really come to mind.

Satisfied that her brother was all right, Sarah shut his bedroom door behind her and walked back down the hallway to her own bedroom. She shut and locked the door behind her, flicked on the lights and tossed her purse at the foot of her bed.

She ran her hands through her hair. Bobby pins fell to the carpeted floor with faint pinging noises. Sarah didn't pick them up—that could wait 'til morning. She kicked off her shoes and went over to her dresser. She pulled out the second drawer down and began to pick through various clothes that had been stuffed inside without being folded.

"Where," she said to herself as she rummaged through her clothes, "Are my P.J.'s? Gotta be here somewhere..."

"Right here, love."

Sarah whirled around. Sitting on her bed, dangling her favorite pajamas from the tips of his elegant fingers, was a total and complete stranger.

"I'll scream," Sarah gulped. Her mouth had gone dry. "My-my dad owns a gun."

The man set her nightwear down on her mattress and smiled—at least, Sarah thought that was what he was trying to do. Somehow, the expression seemed wrong.

"Oh, my dear Sarah," he sighed. "I expected so much more of our first meeting. Your father owns a gun? How very…original." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ring. He vanished.

Keeping her eyes on the spot where he'd been, Sarah backed towards the door. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'm okay…"

"Well, that's a lie, Sarah." A pair of arms slid around her, pinning her arms to her sides. Sarah let loose a blood-curdling scream and threw her head back. It collided into the man's face with a sickening crunch.

"Ah," he gasped. His grip on her didn't slacken at all. "That hurt. You have spirit, girl, I'll give you that."

"Help!" Sarah shouted. "Somebody help!"

"Oh, they can't hear you. I'm not that stupid, sweetheart."

Sarah stomped on his foot.

"Ouch! My, my. I'm beginning to see why Jareth likes you so much."

The color leaked from Sarah's face. "W-what?" she breathed.

"Why, Jareth. The former Goblin King…big hair, sparkles a lot…I believe he kidnapped your _dear_ baby brother several years back. Actually not a bad idea…I might do the same to you." He ran one hand up her arm. "Very—"

Shnick.

"Release the fair maiden, you filthy hooligan!" Sir Didymus, riding astride his mount, Ambrosius, dashed forward, brandishing a bloody rapier in his paw. "She wants no part of your dark schemes and questionable executions! Take thyself back to thy ill-gotten throne!"

"Beast," Sarah's captor hissed and pushed Sarah roughly at Sir Didymus. She narrowly avoided toppling over onto her friend, and instead collapsed onto the carpet of her bedroom floor. When she glanced upwards, the man was gone.

Ambrosius whined and trotted over to lick Sarah's face. Still stunned at this turn of events, she let him.

"Aha!" Sir Didymus slid from his saddle and, after wiping his sword on his coattails, sheathed his weapon. "We got him, did we not Ambrosius? My apologies, m'lady, for not arriving sooner to warn you of this deviant." He swept his tri-corn hat from his fuzzy head and executed a low bow. "I beg your forgiveness. Be thou injured?"

"N-no," Sarah patted her arms just to be sure. "No, I don't think so…Sir Didymus, what was that?"

"That, oh fairest of the fair, was Alvar…the Goblin King." Didymus gave a low growl. "An infamous character of worthless honor to be sure."

Sarah leaned forward. "No, you have that wrong, Sir Didymus. Jareth's the Goblin King, not that guy."

Didymus shook his head. "Oh, Lady Sarah…we have much to discuss and I fear that you shall not like what news I bring of the Labyrinth."

"What news? Bad news?" Sarah frowned. "Tell me."

**xXx**

"Oh, yes," Jareth said as Alvar appeared in a shadowy corner of the oubliette. "That was quite a first meeting between you two. I'm quaking in my boots." He lifted the mirror and inspected his reflection. "Absolutely terrified."

Alvar waved his hand. The mirror in Jareth's hands dissolved into the air. "Shut up!" he wheezed. "I terrified her. She won't sleep for weeks—thus it begins, old friend."

"You know," Jareth sighed, "For a man with a plan, I'm surprised you haven't noticed that Sarah tends to bounce back relatively quickly. Nigh impossible to put down." Jareth tweaked a bit of blond-and-blue hair with his fingers. "As for Sir Didy-whatsit…I'm rather disappointed you didn't see him coming. That's quite a scratch he gave you, Al."

"Nothing that I can't fix," Alvar sneered. "I'm tiring of your attitude, Jareth."

"My attitude?"

Alvar inclined his head slightly. "Get some sleep, your royal highness. Tomorrow's going to be a lovely day." He disappeared, leaving behind him an eerie echo of laughter. Jareth frowned and rolled his crystal down one arm and up the other. Images flashed inside—Sarah's face, a clock with spinning dials, the castle, a black chicken…

"Mm," Jareth sighed and leaned against a rock formation. "A lovely day indeed."


End file.
